Rent Day
by Therrae
Summary: Ten years after Mexican independence, Jamie Mendoza has retired to a quiet life as an innkeeper. NOT a Saving the Fox story


_Not mine. No claims are made by the author. No money changes hand._

_This is NOT a Saving the Fox story. _

Friday was rent day. Jamie always took the cart out to the de le Vega house. He loathed riding horseback, and now that he no longer _had _to, well, why add more needless suffering to the world? He didn't even own a saddle anymore.

Anyway, most weeks he continued on to one of the nearby farms to purchase vegetables or eggs or cheese. It was astonishing, how much food the tavern went through. And it was important to keep up the quality. A new inn had opened in town last year, and they had a very good cook.

Not that Jamie was worried. Los Angeles was growing.. There was plenty of business for two inns and the boardinghouse too. And - although he would not boast about it aloud - Jamie was not merely a 'very good' cook.

As the cart came around the last corner, Jamie slowed up and guided the horse over to the side. The entire de le Vega family seemed to be at the corral. Shielding his eyes from the sun, Jamie climbed down. Alejandra and Edmund were cantering even circles around the edge while Don Diego, in the center, was giving Alfonzo a riding lesson. The toddler might be too young - he was too excited to sit still. It was a wonder that his jiggling and yelling didn't spook the pony, but the patient animal was standing as still as a statue.

Jamie walked around the side to join Dona Victoria leaning against the fence. Her belly was huge, and Jamie blinked in embarrassment and quickly looked away. He and Rosa had three children at home, but two of them were adopted and the first - Rosa was nicely plump. Her belly had hardly been noticeable. Victoria, on the other hand, always looked like a whale when she was expecting. Not that Jamie would ever say anything about that. Or get caught looking.

"Good morning, Senor Mendoza," Dona Victoria said cheerfully. Her glance in his direction was very brief. Her attention was on the riding lesson in the corral.

"Good morning," he answered. "Is it Alfonso's first time?"

She blew out an amused breath. "His third. He is just so completely beside himself..." She smiled fondly. "His first word was 'horse' you know."

Jamie nodded. He knew. Most of Don Diego's conversations these days were about children. "I am sure once he calms down..."

She watched Don Diego lead the pony slowly forward. Alfonso held tightly to the saddle horn and managed to keep from shrieking. "So, how are things in town? How is Rosa?"

"Ah. Rosa. Do you know what she got me for my birthday?"

"Your birthday was last month," she pointed out.

"It was late." He smiled. "It came by ship. An all metal stove! Oh, you should see it. The sweetest, sleekest...it is amazing!"

"Oooh. I would like to see that."

"You must come over for dinner after church on Sunday. I will bake a cake - Oh, you would not believe what I can do with that stove!"

"I can already guess. I think you have become a better cook than I am."

"Never," Jamie said loyally. "I still miss your enchiladas."

In the corral, Alfonzo let out a delighted shriek and nearly toppled himself out of the saddle. Don Diego quickly snatched him up and tucked him under one arm. "That is enough," he said.

"It certainly is," Dona Victoria agreed, reaching over the fence to take the boy. "It is naptime." She raised her voice. "Edmund! You, too. It is time to go in."

"I don't understand," Don Diego complained, passing the squirming package over the fence and into his mother's arms. "He is three. The first two were already reining by now. Oh. Hola, Mendoza."

Dona Victoria tisked at him. "They are not all alike, Diego. We did not stamp them out of a mold." She set Alfonso on the ground and patted his head. He ignored her and stared longingly back at the pony. "We'll try again tomorrow."

"Don' wanna nap," Alfonso protested. "Riding."

"You need a nap," she said, holding him still.

"I don't _need_ a nap," Edmund protested as he rode up to the gate.

"_You_ have not finished your schoolwork," she answered mildly. "You both know the rules. There is no point in arguing."

"Can I at least ride Sparrow back to the house?"

"To the barn," Dona Victoria corrected, taking Alfonso's hand and leading him along. "And you will comb her down yourself, this time. No leaving it for the stable boy."

With a suspiciously innocent look, Edmund nodded and rode on ahead.

"He's a handful," Jamie remarked.

"They are all a handful," Diego corrected cheerfully. "You know, for the life of me, I cannot remember if I was _ever_ that creative about finding new ways to get into trouble. Is it just because they outnumber us?"

Jamie leaned against the post and watched Alejandra canter around the corral. At one end was a series of low hurdles. She jumped over all three of them neatly. "Your father used to tell stories. Apparently, you were very good at getting into trouble. There was that time, when you were seven, and snuck out to join the spring round up. Or the time you decided the wall in the parlor was too boring and needed some artwork - I think you were three. And then - "

"Yes," Don Diego said quickly. "Thank you. I am sure my father would agree that my present trials are well deserved..." He sighed and turned to look back toward the house. Jamie could have kicked himself. Four years Don Alejandro had been gone, and Diego still found mention of his father difficult.

To change the subject, Jamie took a little bag out of his pocket. "I have the rent."

Diego turned back and smiled. "Ah. You know, you are the most punctual man I know." It was not _such_ a generous compliment, except Diego was looking at him so seriously, with so much warmth and pride. Jamie found his face growing warm.

He groped for another change of subject. "Rosa said to invite you to dinner on Sunday."

"It will be our pleasure, of course. But surely it is our turn."

"We have invited Senor Bednikov and his daughter as well. We are hoping Felipe will come."

Don Diego thought for a moment. "Irina," he said. "Rosa is matchmaking again."

Jamie tried not to squirm. "Irina is a lovely girl. And very practical."

"Unlike Senorita Isabella."

"Well...that was a bit of a mistake... Anyway, I'll make a cake in my new oven. You will be amazed, Don Diego."

"We wouldn't miss it. Are the children invited?"

"Of course. You know how Rita looks up to Alejandra," he glanced past Diego where Alejandra was trotting across the corral. Now, with her father looking away, she glanced around furtively and turned her horse in a wider circle. Jamie had been in the King's service for more than twenty years: he knew the look of someone about to commit a crime. But what could she be up to here in the corral? She wasn't about to mistreat the horse, surely. Diego de le Vega's child cruel to an animal? Never.

Her casual arc turned into a gallop. Jamie gasped: she was headed for the adult sized hurdle at full speed. Diego turned to look. He bit off an exclamation. Now was not the moment to startle that horse, because he was already about to leap - already in mid air - a perfect arc, more than a foot above the hurdle. Dear God.

They landed without breaking stride or slowing. It was a perfection he had seen many times before, and Jamie whispered, "She's another Zorro!"

It was only when Diego made a soft choking noise that he realized he had said it out loud, and it was the wrong thing to say. Jamie flushed miserably. He could not look at Diego. He swallowed hard and turned away. Behind him, Don Diego was leaping the fence, admonishing Alejandra, taking possession of the horse, sending the girl back to the house...

Jamie wished the ground would open up and swallow him.

Don Diego walked the horse in a broad circle and then returned. He stopped with the head of the horse between them and rubbed his nose.

Jamie forced himself to look up. "I will never tell anyone," he whispered.

"_What_ is it that you will never tell anyone...about my oldest child?" It was a voice - angry, hard, unrelenting - he had not heard in almost a decade.

"That you are Zorro, of course. I mean...I haven't told anyone yet. I'm not going to say anything _now_."

Don Diego blinked at that, surprised, and Jamie realized that he had thought Jamie was implying something else _entirely_. That made him blush again, and he said quickly, "Although...I never understood why you kept it a secret after the revolution. I mean, Zorro's crimes were against the Crown, the Mexican government dismissed them."

Don Diego sputtered widlly. "How could you possibly think - Where did you get the idea - Zorro! Me?"

"Oh. Well." Jamie shifted his feet. He cleared his throat. "You know...nobody was very surprised when Victoria married you after Zorro disappeared. Especially with your father making no secret that he was pressuring you both..." And in hindsight, that seemed very much like another of the Fox's diversions, but he wasn't going to mention that now. "Except for me. I thought she liked you too much to marry_ you_ when she had given her heart to someone else." He shrugged. "But, you know, sometimes when she looks at you - of course, most of the time she is very correct and proper - but sometimes she looks at you the way she looked at _him_." Jamie swallowed nervously. "She used to - look - at Zorro very openly."

Diego stared at him. Jamie swallowed hard.

"So for years, you've been convinced..."

"Oh, maybe not _convinced_, that is such a strong word." A nervous chuckle escaped. "I _thought,_ but I was not convinced. Well, not until two minutes ago." He wanted to laugh. He wanted to beg forgiveness. He wanted to turn into a bird and fly away. "Zorro used to get angry...um...fairly frequently in the old days. Not so much any more. But I know his voice."

Don Diego closed his eyes. "I didn't want to spend my life fighting off young men who wanted to test themselves against Zorro's reputation."

"Oh," Jamie said in a small voice, "I thought perhaps you were very pessimistic about the new government."

Don Diego laughed once, weakly. Then he said, "The children don't know. Victoria. Felipe. My - my father." Another laugh. "And you, apparently..." He took a deep breath. "I suppose - Rosa?"

Jamie shook his head. "She is my wife. I would have told her if she'd asked. But why would _I_ know who Zorro was? She never asked..."

Don Diego studied him for a moment and then began to slowly unsaddle Alejandra's horse.

"I wanted to thank you," Jamie whispered. "So many times. For so much."

Diego's hands froze on the cinch. "So have I," he answered. "You could have had me. Twice, toward the end."

Toward the end Jamie had been so fed up...but then so had DeSoto. The entire last year after they had come so close to execution, it was only inertia that carried them forward. DeSoto had put away his painting of Machiavelli. He'd gotten drunk once and started talking about how ambition had failed him, duty was impossible, and honor - he didn't have any. It had been terribly sad.

Jamie had had a hard time believing in duty, too, given that Spain had abandoned California to the likes of Risendo and even DeSoto himself. But honor? "Zorro had enough honor for all of us," Jamie whispered, wishing he could explain. "You did. You never betrayed us, you never gave up."

Don Diego shook his head numbly.

Jamie continued. He just had a little bit more to say. "I tell my children stories - all the children who come to play - I tell them stories of Zorro. I don't tell stories about war anymore..."

Don Diego slowly lifted the saddle onto a fence rail and turned to face him. For a moment he couldn't seem to speak. Jamie had never seen Don Diego - or Zorro - at a loss for words before. "I...I should apologize for all the mending you had to do," he said at last.

Jamie forced himself to laugh. "Yes, you should. I used to have a little callus on my finger from the needle, sewing up all those _Z_s."

"I am deeply sorry," Don Diego said, bowing grandly. Mendoza laughed, this time for real.

"I won't tell anyone..."

"I wasn't worried that you would." He produced his watch and checked the time. "It is later than I thought. You must join us for lunch." He clapped Jamie across he shoulders and steered him back toward the waiting wagon.

"You will come for dinner on Sunday?"

"Oh, of course we will. I am warning Felipe about Irina, though."

_~end _


End file.
